


you miss too much these days

by ardentintoxication



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, BAMFs, Community: pacificrimkink, Drinking, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Protectiveness, or mako/raleigh/chuck I'm not picky, there is maybe chuck/raleigh if you squint?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 20:17:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/957194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentintoxication/pseuds/ardentintoxication
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a href="http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/1613.html?thread=2133325#t2133325">a prompt</a> on the kink meme, which asked for Chuck to get a drugged drink and get saved by someone. Newt. The Russians. Anybody.</p><p>Of all the drinks, in all the bars, in all the world, Chuck's gets drugged. This is a poor decision on the part of the drugger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you miss too much these days

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, I have never gotten drunk, gotten roofied, or in any way encountered anything like in this fic, so sorry if I get details wrong.
> 
> Also, to the requesting anon: you couldn't decide, so I gave you _all of the peoples._ Because I couldn't resist.

The apocalypse has been canceled, and that calls for a drink.  
  
Or at least that's what everyone in the Shatterdome collectively agrees. Cleaning up equipment, scrapping what leftover parts there are, mourning the dead; that's for later, they agree. Tonight is for getting shitfaced and celebrating those that lived.  
  
Tendo knows most of the bars in Hong Kong, and while a lot of them are now rubble, they find one (albeit in a seedier part of a town that is already seedy) that can accommodate most of the team.  
  
Chuck isn't much for getting drunk. There's just never been time for it, with training consuming him entirely and negating any thoughts of other activities. Chuck's idea of a good time is playing in his bunk with Max for an hour, so he stares at what everyone else is getting to figure out what to ask for. Mako's drinking sake shots and whooping every time she counts to three, Raleigh has something fruity-looking - figures - and Newt and Hermann are arguing in German, fueled by beer and schnapps, respectively.  
  
"Ever had a Kaiju Blue before?" The question comes from a guy who sits down next time him at the barstool. He's white, with sand-colored hair and a leather jacket over a well-fitted T-shirt, and looks completely out of place in a smoky bar that, according to Tendo, is mostly frequented by local factory workers and prostitutes.  
  
"Never," he says.  
  
The man at the bar smiles and signals the bartender, saying something rapidly in Mandarin. "Let me pay," he says. "It's not the end of the world, to pay for another guy's drink."  
  
Chuck has to laugh at that, and he does. "Nah, it isn't."  
  
A Kaiju Blue, it turns out, is actually blue, and smells like it could contaminate a coastline. The man slides it down to him along the bar, keeping his cocktail for himself. Chuck eyes it - it's pretty big, and he's not sure what it's supposed to taste like - but takes a few sips anyway. The guy bought him a drink, he should at least try it. It's sweet, with a sharp aftertaste that's a lot like mouthwash, shriveling the inside of his mouth and scorching down his throat.  
  
It actually feels kind of good. Clean, almost.  
  
He nurses it for fifteen minutes, between the man at the bar's talk of his business, his travels, his amazing luck to be sent to Hong Kong in time for the last great defeat. The man orders him another one, patting Chuck's hand away when he takes out his wallet to buy the next round, a Scorpion for Chuck and a beer for the man ("I have to drive later," he says, and Chuck nods, because that makes sense. He's a little dizzy. Maybe he shouldn't drive, when this is over).  
  
"You look a little tipsy," says the man, and Chuck realizes that he never actually introduced himself, "are you okay?"  
  
Chuck tries to answer, but can't. That's weird. His thoughts keep moving away from him, and his words are slurring into something unintelligible. That's really weird. He can't move, his arms are too heavy, he can't stop the man when he touches his face, when he runs a hand down his neck and chest, when he slings one of Chuck's arms over his shoulder and starts to walk out the door. Chuck is keeping himself upright, but only barely, and fuck, this is bad, this is really bad, he can't see anyone he knows and the room is spinning and he can't get away and he can't breathe, he can't  _breathe_ -

"Chuck? Chuck, are you okay?"  
  
Never in his fucking life has Chuck been glad to see Raleigh Becket.  
  
"Had a couple too many drinks," says the man, chuckling, and Chuck wants to say  _no, that's not true, don't believe him,_  but he can't make the words sound like words. "I'm taking him home so he can sleep it off."  
  
"You are not a ranger." That's Mako, tiny and cold-voiced. "You are not an engineer or a scientist. You are not taking him home because you are not part of the PPDC, and you do not know where his home is or how to get there. You would not get in even if your intentions were honorable." She glares at the man, and Chuck almost feels sorry for him. "Which they clearly are not. There is something wrong with him. Let him go."  
  
"Look, if he's your friend, fine," says the man, his voice edged with a faint note of fear. "I was just trying to help. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess." He drops his shoulder out from under Chuck, and he's about to fall, is falling, is caught by someone's strong arms and kept upright. The person smells like vodka and Novaya Zarya - Sasha. He can trust Sasha. His breathing eases.  
  
"Um, you might have guessed this already? But we're not idiots," says Newt, and who the fuck taught him to move that fast and that quietly, fuck, he's already got a knife out, who gave him a knife, that's like giving a knife to a twelve-year-old, were they insane? "And I'm a fucking biologist, and even if I wasn't, I've hung out in too many bars to not know what someone looks like when they're on roofies, and our  _friend_ ," he punctuates this with a light jab of his knife to the man's neck, "is on some serious shit. So you're going to give me the stash, right now."  
  
The man looks like he's going to argue, like he's insulted that Newt would ever accuse him of such a thing, but Aleksis Kaidonovsky is behind him. He doesn't even have to speak to be menacing. The man takes a couple of vials out of his jacket and hands them to Newt.   
  
"Thank you," says Newt, grinning faintly maniacally. "I would have hated to give you to that guy. Or this guy," he says, gesturing over his shoulder at Hermann, who is shaking with fury so hard his cane is wobbling.  
  
"You made a mistake," says Mako. "You decided to drug a Jaeger pilot in a bar full of his friends, who would all be very disappointed if something bad happened to him, especially since he helped save the world."  
  
"Because you're a fucking moron," adds Newt helpfully.  
  
Sasha hands Chuck to Raleigh. Chuck can't really find the energy to protest, or to keep standing up, really, and he sinks into Raleigh's hold. He feels more than sees Raleigh half-carry, half-drag him to an empty corner and lower them both to the floor, Chuck's head lolling against his shoulder.  
  
"You're gonna be fine," says Raleigh, stroking his hair. It feels really nice, even though Chuck would rather go toe-to-toe with a Kaiju than admit it. "You can pass out if you want. Mako's probably gonna castrate him, if the Russians or the Germans don't get there first." Chuck feels the timbre of Raleigh's laugh near his ear, and the weight of Raleigh's hands massaging his scalp. "We're not gonna let anything happen to you."  
  
It's true that his eyelids are getting much heavier, and he's exhausted and dizzy and more than a little nauseous, and it's so much easier to stop fighting, let his eyes fall shut, and feel sleep rush up to meet him.


End file.
